Our Last Hour
by 18 and Life
Summary: She told him not to return, but then again, when had he been good at following orders? LudwigxFrederike
1. The King of this Pity Party

_Fate is an elegant, cold-hearted whore_

_She loves salting my wounds, yes,_

_She enjoys nothing more_

_I bleed confidence_

_From deep within my guts now_

_I'm the king of this pity party_

_with my jewel encrusted crown_

_-_Polygraph, Right Now! by **The Spill Canvas**

"Prince!" Wilheim called, rapping on Ludwig's door with the back of his hand. "Prince, the festivities have started!"

The manservant heard a loud moan. "I'm coming out, Wil. Just give me a moment."

His voice sounded heavy, and slightly slurred. He had either been asleep or had been drinking, which Wilheim doubted, as Ludwig seldom found any joy in alcohol.

A moment later, the prince appeared, long hair cascading down his back, eyes shining mischievously, as usual. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, and a golden chain hung carelessly out of his pocket, but for once, he didn't seem to mind.

Wil couldn't help glancing around his master, searching for a bottle of brandy. Prince Ludwig _never _left the room without spending at least an hour on his hair, his eyes, his lips, grooming everything into perfection. Tonight, he wore no makeup, and his eyes sported slight gray bags. The smile on his face seemed less and less genuine the longer Wil studied it.

But the servant tore himself away. "Let's go down, then, Prince," he offered.

Ludwig nodded slightly. "Let's."

The palace's courtyard was alight with fireworks, Roman Candles, and regular ones, melted wax sliding down the sides like multicolored tears. There were jesters juggling colored balls, and fat bakers and butchers offering sausages and pies, girls with their bosoms spilling out of their dresses serving pints of ale…

"Let's go to the flower seller," Ludwig suggested, breaking off Wil's train of thought.

"O…okay," Wilheim replied, a little surprised. _Flowers? Since when has Lui been sentimental? _

"If you don't mind me asking, m'lord, who might these be for?" A list of girls' names, princesses, maids, tavern-girls, and peasants, ran through his head. The list of girls his master had deflowered (no pun intended) was endless.

"Mmmm," rumbled the prince, not listening. He was pondering over a display of purple flowers. At last, with great panache, he scooped up a small bouquet of heather blooms. "These will do nicely."

He paid the flower seller and left the booth, puzzled manservant trailing behind him. The people of the kingdom mulled about, laughing and running and dancing to the music of golden flutes. Ludwig reached down to touch the golden chain hanging from his trouser pocket, fingers trembling as they stroked the cold, unforgiving metal. His hand pushed its way into his pocket and scooped out a scratched pocket watch, gleaming dully against the luminous sparks of the Roman Candles. He brought the watch to his nose and inhaled the sweet, flowery scent–_her _scent.

For a moment, it all disappeared: his nagging servant, the joyous cries of the townfolk, the thick smell of roasting chicken in the air. All that was left was him, clutching the watch, smelling the flowers, as a million fireworks exploded…in his heart.

He held the clock for who knows how long, and let his eyes drift close. His mind began mapping out every memory he had of her: eyes gleaming a furious lavender in the sunlight, hands on her narrow hips, short, silver hair rustling in the wind. Her lips, stained red, tasting sweet and sour at the same time against his. The light feather-brush of her hair falling across his chest as he pulled her close…

A moan resounded in his throat as he squeezed the watch. "_Frederike_," he sighed. "_Idike_."

With the other hand, he clutched the bouquet as though for dear life and his knees gave out. His body smacked against the ground, _hard_, and it all came back: people rushing towards him, cries of, "Prince! Prince Ludwig!" and the inevitable _whoosh _and _zing _of Roman Candles.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I know Ludwig Kakumei is a fairly obscure manga. Well, maybe not. But please review!**


	2. And Though this Journey's Over

__

_There's always cracks;_

_crack of sunlight, crack in the mirror on your lips_

_It's the moment of a sunset Friday_

_When our conversations twist_

_It's the fifth day of ice on a new tattoo_

_But the ice should be on our heads_

_We only spun the webs to catch ourselves_

_So we weren't left for dead_

-I'm Not Dead by **P!nk**

Queen Amalberga's exasperated sigh filled the bedchamber. "Wilheim, I _told _you to do whatever it takes to wake him!"

"I've tried, your Majesty." The manservant combed his hands through his mane of coal-black hair. "Near enough everything. He's still not up."

She shook her head and whirled around. "When he wakes, notify me. Until then, you are to keep an eye on him."

"Yes, your Majesty."

It was terribly breezy in the field. Ludwig's hand flew up protectively to cover his face as a knot of brambles flew by. Idike had been throwing these bizarre, spiky bomb-like things at him since he'd first entered the clearing. Purple blooms shredded in the wind and encircled his head, filling his mind with her scent, but he refused to be intoxicated.

"LUUUUDWIIIIG!" Sleeping Beauty screeched like a banshee. "I **_TOLD _**YOU NOT TO COME HERE!"

Lui sidestepped another thorn-bomb. "Quit throwing those things at me, you psychotic woman! You'll ruin my perfect face!"

"You idiot!" she cried. "Why did you come back? _Why_?" She raised her hands to let fly another torrent of brambles, but they were shaking too hard, and she dropped them to her sides.

By now Ludwig was only a few yards away from her. He reached out a hand, but she swatted it away.

"Princess–"

"_Please_, Ludwig. You have to leave. You can't...you can't _be _here."

"Why not?" he demanded indignantly, putting his hands on his hips.

"This is no place for the living. Now leave."

He scowled. "Don't tell me what to do."

Her eyes widened in fury, and slender tendrils of thorns began wrapping around his legs.

"Hey! No fair!"

She made a sharp, waving motion, and the thorns dragged him down.

"Shi–hey! Make these things go away! You crazy–AAAAAGH!"

Wil had almost nodded off in his chair when he heard the scraping of boots against the windowsill.

"Mmf...hello?" he mumbled, not exactly awake.

A booted foot kicked the window out of its frame, the action so neat and calculated that the glass stayed perfectly intact.

Wil caught the falling pane of glass. "What the..."

Lisette leaped inside, landing lightly as a cat. Her red cloak swirled around her, caught by a stray breeze. In a moment, she was at the prince's bedside, aiming her rifle at his forehead.

"He's asleep!" she gloated in jubilation. "I'M GONNA KIIIIILL HIM!

"Lisette, wait!" Will hurled himself at the murderess, throwing them both down to the ground. "You can't hurt the prince!"

"Like hell I can!" she thrashed against his hold. "Lemme at 'im! I have to kill him!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Woof!"

"Meow!"

"Woof!

"Meow!"

"No, you won't!" Wil cried.

"Yes, I will!"

"No you won't!"

"Yes, I will!"

"No, you won't!"

"No, I won't!"

"Yes, you will!"

"Hah!" she cackled as she tore away. "You said I will! Tricked ya!"

Wil groaned. "Don't, Lisette."

She cocked her rifle and aimed it at the sleeping man.

Outside the window, a song began. Wil's eyes lit up.

"Oh, look! The fair's not over! And the king's band is playing one of my favorite songs!"

"So what?" she grumbled.

Wil grabbed her by the waist, startling her into dropping the rifle. "Let me have this one song, and then you may kill him."

She sighed and allowed him to whirl her around. "Fine. One song."

His hand found her hip, and he caught her other hand with his. The song was a familiar waltz tune, but nobody had ever taught Lisette how to dance. She stumbled, suddenly clumsy. Wil, used to seeing her move with ninja grace–

**"Jesus, Elle!" Mello shouted, walking into the author of this fanfiction's room.**

**The redheaded girl looked up. "What?"**

**"You have this weird..._ninja_ fixation. You used it in 'Blood and Chocolate', too."**

**"Yeah? Well you dress like a slutty girl."**

**Mello pulled out his gun and pressed it against her head. "Say that again, angel."**

**"Right. Sorry."**

**"Let's get on with the fanfic."**

–was surprised at how awkward she looked. Almost...sad.

"You don't know how to waltz?"

She bit her lip, eyes blazing with anger and shame. "Never had time to learn."

"I'll teach you," he said quickly, casting a look over her shoulder at the sleeping prince. _Please wake up, Prince Lui_ he thought silently as he guided her through a slow twirl.

"Agh! Stupid–Wilheim?"

"Prince! You're awake!" Wil, completely forgetting about the girl in his arms, dropped her like a hot potato. Lisette landed in a crabcrawl and righted herself indignantly as the manservant hurried to notify the queen.

Turning to glare at the man who had ruined her life, Lisette was surprised to see that the prince's eyes were shining.

"What are you so happy about?" she muttered, pissed off because he was awake, thus cutting off any chance she might have had at killing him for the moment.

He paused to glance at her. "I had a nice dream," he murmured, standing up and starting out of the bedroom. He stopped. "Hey, Lisette?"

"Yes?"

"You dance like a brain-damaged elephant with a stick up its anal cavity."

Cackling, Ludwig sprinted out of the royal bedchamber, just as two bullets collided with the door, inches from the back of his head.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yeah, so here's chappie 2! Hope you like. And the more reviews I get, the quicker I update! Bleeh! Oh, and by the way, Mello wants to give you all a message *hands microphone to Mello***

**MELLO: This stupid girl has a ninja complex! And she sucks at writing from my POV! I'm not in love with Misa! I'm in love with Ma–**

**ELLE: Yeah, so, um, R&R!**


	3. You Lying, Trying Waste of Space

_My, oh my_

_A song to say goodbye _

_A song to say...before our innocence is gone_

_You were always one of those _

_Blessed with lucky sevens_

_And a voice that makes me cry_

-Song to Say Goodbye by** Placebo**

"What do you need _that _for?" Dorothea demanded.

The prince sniffed. "I'm not paying you to ask questions, you sadomasochistic bi...I mean, _witch_. I'm paying you to make it for me!"

The now-tiny witch's mouth twisted downwards. "I'm not sure I can do that. It's not safe to be playing around with these kind of things, Ludwig."

The redhead tilted his head to the side and smiled. His eyes did not match his mouth. They were hooded and dark. "Since when have I liked to play it safe?"

The witch shook her head. "Can't argue with _that_," she mumbled.

"So? Can you have it ready soon?"

The blond girl lifted her chin up. "What do you expect? If I can put a princess to sleep for a hundred years, I can certainly meet a deadline."

Ludwig liked her bluntness. "Have it done by tomorrow."

She curtsied, and he dropped a bag of gold and silver on her table and strode out.

***

"Rule number one of dancing: you and your partner must agree on all things," Wilheim announced.

Lisette shook her head. She still wasn't sure on why she'd let him talk her into this. She wasn't the type to dance, especially not _ballroom _dancing.

Wilheim looked strangely out-of-character in a pair of baggy black sultan's pants and a white shirt with a red sash around the waist. On his feet were a pair of pointed leather boots. He looked both strangely hot and very gay.

And as for Lisette, she couldn't have looked more different. Wilheim had insisted she wear a leotard and some of those stupid legwarmers. She had even had to ditch her red cloak, which made her feel very naked.

"Now, let's practice some steps, shall we?"

Without answering, she got to her feet and stood bowlegged, slouching.

"That's NOT how a dancer stands, Lisette!"

She contemplated kicking him in a very sensitive area, but relaxed instead and allowed him to put his hands on her and adjust her back and shoulders.

By the end of the day, practically the whole palace had gathered in the grand ballroom to watch Lisette's dance lesson, or so it seemed. Ludwig unclipped the horse's bridle and bit and hung them both up on the stable wall. In his pocket was folded a piece of parchment with instructions on how to properly take the potion he was going to receive from Dorothea.

In the meanwhile, what would he do?

He strode past the ballroom, where Lisette was yelling at Wilheim for "putting his hands on her ass". Wilheim, trying to plead his innocence, was promptly kicked in the face. Ludwig let a chuckle escape him.

Once in his chamber, he flopped down on his bed and examined his nails. He was going to need a manicure, most definitely.

Reaching under his pillow, he pulled out the watch. _That damn crazy woman_, he thought, dangling it in front of his eyes like a cat with a toy.

***

She had lost count of how many there were. Hundreds, if not thousands, one right after the other.

Men pumped full of bravado and testosterone, battling the briars that tangled around her palace.

But they couldn't get to her. That damn witch had made sure of it.

Their bodies were ensnared in the brambles, scratched and bleeding, eyes glowing with disappointment even in death.

In the meanwhile, she would lie there, stuck in that terribly tedious phase between sleep and waking.

Never aging, never changing.

But remembering, all the same.

The slash of the scissors against her hair, the cries of her mother when she saw it.

Running up the stairs to her father's tower.

That strange woman in the cloak, who told her the truth.

About her father. About her mother.

She was no fairytale princess. Just a girl who had a slut for a father and a molested invalid for a mother, who spoke to magical talking crayfish.

She wasn't worth these knights' efforts.

And she'd thought that nothing would ever change.

Until Lui appeared.

At first, she'd been furious at him after he'd left, spirit swooping around the now bramble-free castle in rage.

Then she'd pined over him, weeping and calling out his name.

She knew he was an infamous womanizer, chasing skirts like a dog chased its own tail. She knew she had been a challenge for him, something he could fight to have and then throw aside.

So why did she miss him?

And why was he coming back to her?

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! The ideas just weren't really coming for this fic. So I kind of had to push myself to keep writing. Anyways, hope you liked this one! It actually took me about three days to write, which is kind of a lot for me. Funny how I'm having trouble with this one and not Blood and Chocolate, which has a much more complicated plotline. Anyways, remember, no reviews, no updates! And for all of you who wanted art from Blood and Chocolate, please give me your e-mail and expect it sometime next week. I've got a BUTTLOAD of stuff to do, so yeah. Much love.**


	4. I Thought of Just Your Face

_I'm just a normal boy that sank when I fell overboard_

_My ship would leave the country_

_but I'd rather swim ashore_

_Without a life vest I'd be stuck again_

_wish I was much more masculine_

_Maybe then I could learn to swim now fourteen miles away_

-Into the Oceanby **Blue October**

The bottle was shaped like a skinny pyramid with a triangular black wax stopper. The liquid inside was the color of champagne, and fizzed slightly when the prince uncorked it.

He took a sniff. The fluid smelled like winter air and blackberries, with a maddening hint of those purple blossoms. Ludwig reached for the instructions and read.

_On the night of the half-moon, mix three drops of your blood into the vial and drink at the stroke of midnight. Do not take before, or you will most likely suffer hallucinations. Immediately after, close your eyes and do not open them until you see a white light flash before them. Then you will be fully transported into the realm of the dead. As soon as you arrive there, you will have two days before your body is pulled back into the world of the living. A word of caution: drink it any time before that, and your body will only be half-transported into the world of the dead._

It was the night of the half-moon. It was ten o'clock. He had already mixed in three drops of his blood.

He smirked as he stopped the bottle and set it onto the bedside table. His fingers were tangled into the watch-chain. With one taloned finger, he popped the clasp and let the clock fall open.

"Soon, my dear princess," he whispered. "Like it or not, I'll be back."

_The wallpaper had all but peeled away, and many of the windows were smashed in. A great many of the door were busted off their hinges as well. One, however, was intact. It was the door to her bedroom._

_In the doorframe, six or seven lines were gouged into the wood, each one a few inches above the other. Someone had scrawled things under each of these lines. One said "Idike, age 4". Another said "Idike, age 7". The princess of the Briar castle pressed the flat of her hand against her forehead, which felt strangely hot. She tried to remember someone doing this, measuring her height year to year._

_Had it been her father? No, he wouldn't have busied himself with these things. Her mother? Most likely not. And none of the servants, that was for sure._

_Frederike closed her eyes. Who had cared enough to do this one thing, provide her with a single memento of her childhood?_

"How are things going?" Ludwig leaned against one of the grand ballroom's many pillars. Lisette's leotard was matted to her body with sweat, and her hair hung in lank ringlets. She glared at him.

Wilheim had several bruises, and a long tear doing down one leg of his pants.

"We're making progress," he wheezed. "She didn't punch me this time."

"Punch you? A woman after my own heart."

Lisette brandished her sniper rifle. "Care to repeat that, sweetie?"

"Lisette, please..." Wil sounded weary. "We have to try these steps again."

"What do you mean? We _so _don't!" growled the girl. "I need to pee. I'm going to find the bathroom."

"Come back soon..." Wilheim called. He turned to his master. "I'll be back in a second. I have to make sure she doesn't get lost or something."

_Lisette had donned her mantle again, and was stomping about the castle, looking for a bathroom or a fountain or something. She had managed to lose Wilheim, who had been following like a puppy. She had also managed to get herself lost, unfortunately. _

_Several blind turns had led her to a hallway with only one door. It was carved with a splendid assortment of birds, butterflies and the like. She paused to run her fingers over the design, relishing the smooth feeling of the wood against her fingers._

_What room was this, she wondered. The carving on the door was feminine and borderline gaudy, which meant it could only be one place._

_Ludwig's room._

_She shivered, delighted. Would she wait in there to kill him when he came in? Or take all his valuables and sell them for a new rifle?_

_So many possibilities. She turned the knob._

Eleven fifty-nine.

Ludwig clutched the bottle. His hands were shaking. He willed them still as he undid the cork again. He hadn't seen either Wilheim or Lisette for awhile now, but that was just as well. He wasn't much into conversation, what with the things he was facing now.

There seemed to be less fluid in the bottle, but he attributed that to his imagination going wild on account of nerves.

Raising the bottle to his lips, he chugged the contents, just as the minute hand on the palace's grandfather clock hit twelve midnight.

A grin hit his lips as he closed his eyes. "It's time now," he whispered.

And then his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

_"Triple suicide? Are you sure?" Queen Amalberga demanded, furious._

_"Y-yes ma'am," the palace physician replied. "Really, we have no reason to believe any differently."_

_"But...why so suddenly? My son had no reason to commit suicide..."_

_"I have no idea why, ma'am." The physician bowed his head respectfully._

_The queen kicked him in the ass. "Then _find _an idea! We have to solve this!"_

It was cold in the meadow. Ludwig pulled his coat closer around himself and looked around, his eyes feeling like those of a nearsighted person who had just received glasses. The familiar sight was like a balm to the ache he'd been feeling for months.

"Ludwig!"

His head whipped around. It didn't sound like Idike's voice. So who could it be?

When he spotted the two figures running across the field, he looked shocked.

And almost nobody had ever seen Prince Ludwig shocked.

"HOW IN THE HELL DID YOU TWO GET HERE?" Ludwig fairly screeched.

Wilheim was toeing the ground shyly. "It wasn't my fault."

Lisette smacked him with her rifle and then turned to the prince. "I went into your room and saw that weird bottle. So I figured it might be some kind of expensive booze. And I took a sip."

"But...that was before midnight." Ludwig furrowed his brow as he thought back on the instructions.

_Do not take before (midnight), or you will most likely suffer hallucinations. _

"Yeah, I know. So then _Wil_, who's been chasing me around all this time, comes in. And since I'm tripping balls, I kiss him."

"When she kissed me, some of the potion spilled into my mouth," Wil explained, his face twisting up as though expecting another rifle-beating.

"Wait just a moment." Ludwig shivered again and put his hand to his forehead. "So you're saying you two are stuck in the spirit world with me too?"

Lisette broke out in a sudden grin. "Seems like it."

**A/N: SORRY SORRY SORRY about the late update. I've been doing a lot of traveling lately, and most of the time, I didn't have my laptop with me. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you know that there WILL be more updates, but I can't promise they'll be soon or a while from now. Anyways, R&R, or I won't keep writing!**


	5. Alone in a World so Cold

_Dream if you can a courtyard_

_An ocean of violets in bloom_

_Animals strike curious poses,_

_They feel the heat, the heat between me and you_

_-When Doves Cry _by **Prince**

"Where are you going, Prince?" Wilheim called.

"To find the damn castle, what do you think, you useless baboon!" Ludwig called over his shoulder as he trudged through the haze of flowers.

"Hold up!" Lisette cocked her rifle and pointed it at the back of Ludwig's pretty head. "You got us into this situation. How do you propose we get out of it?"

"_Me_? How did _I _get you into this? _You _drank the damn potion, you graceless gunslinger!" Ludwig half-screetched, turning around and whipping the gun out of her hands. In a fit of childish fury, he brought his knee up, karate-style, and broke the weapon over it.

Lisette stared at him like a child who'd just had her favorite doll smashed. "You metrosexual moron," she finally murmured faintly, shocked.

"Alright, alright!" Wil called hastily, scooting between the two. "Now is _not _the time to be trading clever insults. Fact of the matter is, we're all dead for all intents and purposes. And we have forty-eight hours to _be _dead. So I think we should all use this time to our advantage."

Lisette lodged her foot up his butt. "_Use it to our advantage?"_

"My ass!"

"Sorry." She yanked her foot away. "I just..."

"Save the apologies for later," Ludwig interrupted tactlessly. He tossed the remains of her beloved gun aside. "I'm finding the castle. You two can do whatever the hell you want."

*** * ***

_Even when she closed her eyes, even when she was sure she was asleep, memories still came back to haunt her. She could almost feel the thorns dragging against her flesh, grating and tearing her into a thousand pieces. The pain was excruciating, sending every nerve in her body on edge. She thrashed and fought against the agony, but the brambles thickened and clutched her tighter, ripping her clothes away, scratching her porcelain cheeks._

_And then suddenly it was gone. Instead, a faint, floral smell filled the air, soapy and relaxing. A young man stood at the foot of the castle and looked up. But he was no starstruck lover. There was a sneer on his lips, a naughty twinkle in his eye._

_The bastard! She sent out tendrils of thorn to mangle him, but he used his gun to slice through the vines. His neatly manicured hands were cracked and bloody, but he licked his fingers clean seductively, all the while keeping his eyes on her._

_Stupid...self-centered...bratty..._

_She launched herself off the castle's highest turret towards him, but then she remembered his words._

_"Don't you get it, Sleeping Beauty? Your looks, your brains...everything was yours, by birth."_

_At the time she had hated his cold-heartedness, but in a way, she knew he was trying to comfort her._

_And she felt herself dissolving into tears._

_"I've set in motion the time that you stopped. Not that I care about all those men who died," he tossed out off-handedly. "Besides...I don't think you'll have a better man come for you."_

_That idiot..._

She let her eyes flutter open, the last dregs of sleep drift away. Here in the land of the dead, she had created the castle again, for old time's sake. And now that _he _was here, he would surely be looking for it.

But what would she say to him? What would they do, after all that had happened?

His feet padding up the stone steps...

She groaned and pressed a pillow to her face.

Him, kneeling by the bed, pressing his lips gently to hers...

_Reaching out and touching the bleeding me...no one has ever truly done that._

Idike could remember perfectly the look on his face: still a mask of that smugness, still that twinkle, but it was all forced. There was a different kind of light dancing in his eyes now. Happiness, maybe?

_*******_

"So...the land of the dead." Wilheim shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Lisette was glaring at the ground.

"Anyone you want to visit?'

She shook her head, brow furrowed like a grumpy infant's.

"Oh, I know! What about your parents?"

"My _parents_?"

"Yeah! I bet you haven't seen them in awhile."

"Wilheim, I KILLED my parents! They tried to SELL me!"

"Oops. Yeah, sorry..."

Lisette booted him in the stomach. He toppled to the floor and rolled into a fetal position. She knelt down beside him, and he tensed, prepared for another attack.

Looking up, he realized she wasn't even facing him. She had fallen to her knees, and was staring at some fixed point above the line of trees.

"Lisette..."

"You just don't know, Wil..." she murmured. "You...you don't..."

"I don't know what?"

"I can't _be _here...I've killed so many people and I feel like they're all _watching _me...my parents...everybody else..."

"Lisette, calm down..."

"I'm calm. I'm fine." She grabbed his hands. "Do you know what?"

"What?"

"Let's visit my parents. Now."

"H-how?"

"We're in the land of the dead. We'll figure it out somehow."

"Alright..." Wilheim scratched his head. It had been his suggestion in the first place, but he wasn't quite sure if he had meant it.

The grass rustled, flower petals floating around their shoulders. Voices seemed to whisper.

_Call upon the Shadow Maid...the Shadow Maid..._

"The Shadow Maid?" Wilheim repeated, confused.

"You called?" a cool voice replied. Lisette was on her feet in a second, her hand reflexively reaching for her crippled rifle. Wil jumped three feet in the air and landed on his much-abused hindquarters.

A young girl, perhaps twelve or thirteen, perched on the high branch of a tree. Her irises were gray as marble, without a single fleck of vein of any other color. No pupil interrupted the gray. Her skin was so white it looked slightly blue, her hair the color of rice and straight as a stick.

"I'll take you anywhere, for a price."

"What's the price?" Lisette asked, trying to sound tough.

"I need to feed."

"F-feed? On what?" Wil repeated.

The Maiden leaped from the branch as demurely as a cat and landed on the poor manservant's shoulders. Her tongue shot out, the muscle black as ink, and stayed there, tasting the air.

"What are you–AAAAAH!"

With a deft motion, the girl's mouth formed an _o_, and she made a sucking noise. Wil thrashed about, the area around his head shimmering like the air surrounding a fire.

"What are you doing?" Lisette screeched.

The Maiden sucked for a few moments more, and then pulled away. Wilheim, white as linen, flopped to the ground, gurgling weakly.

"There. I have fed on half a human soul. Now you may go where you wish."

**A/N: Yep, there's now officially a problem, Houston. Review or I won't put the next chapter up.**

**LUDWIG: Is there going to be a sex scene in this fic?**

**ELLE: Maybe. Why?**

**FRIEDERIKE: I'm fifteen and he's nineteen. That's statutory rape.**

**ELLE: This was set in the ancient times. Nobody cared. REVIEW!**


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